Free Murder Mamas by Ashley Antoinette

already knew that Boomer wasn’t built for the drug game. To be honest, Macy thought Boomer was too foolish to move drugs, so he never introduced it to him. And for that reason, Boomer hated his so-called father.
    â€œFuck you, Macy Sigel. You ain’t nobody’s mayor. You a goon just like me! All of those fancy suits and bodyguards can’t hide who you really are, playboy,” Boomer yelled as he breathed heavily and twisted his face up.
    Boomer’s friend stood next to Boomer and watched, not believing that Boomer was going off like he was. Fruit already heard stories about how ruthless Macy was in the past, and honestly, Fruit began to get nervous.
    Macy didn’t even give him the respect to turn around and look at him. He just lightly chuckled and shook his head as he lifted a lighter to spark flame to his cigar. Boomer continued his rant.
    â€œTo tell you the truth, you’s a bitch!” Boomer yelled, enunciating every word.
    â€œBoomer!” Fatima yelled as she stood up, having seen enough. Just as Fatima was screaming her son’s name, Boomer, high as a kite, threw a punch, trying to connect with the back of Macy’s head.
    Macy, without even seeing it coming, stepped to the side. Boomer’s swing missed and sent him crashing onto the ground. Macy smoothly slid his free hand into his pocket and looked over at his approaching bodyguards.
    â€œEscort these gentlemen out and make sure he gets home safely,” Macy said as he stepped over Boomer and walked over to Fatima, who had tears in her eyes.
    The guards grabbed Boomer and Fruit and quickly guided them out. Macy looked at the DJ and nodded, signaling him to start up the music, and on cue, the sounds of smooth jazz pumped out of the subwoofers. Macy quickly wiped away Fatima’s tear before it reached her cheekbone.
    â€œCome on, let’s dance, baby,” Macy asked as he smiled from ear to ear.
    â€œI tried to raise him the best way I knew how, but he—” Fatima said before Macy gently placed his finger on her lip, hushing her.
    â€œDon’t worry about it, baby. He is just high out of his mind. He just has to sleep it off,” he whispered, trying to smooth over the tense situation. Macy didn’t express it, but he knew that Boomer was going to be a problem—a real bad problem.
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    Boomer drove down the highway doing almost one hundred miles per hour. His eyes were bloodshot red and his temper was past his boiling point. He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he thought about how much he hated Macy.
    â€œI can’t stand that nigga,” Boomer said through his clenched teeth. He quickly dipped his head and used his nose as a vacuum, sucking up the cocaine that sat on the book in his lap. He slightly swerved, causing Fruit to get uneasy.
    â€œWhoa! Nigga, keep your eyes on the road,” Fruit said as he gripped the door handles and braced himself.
    â€œRelax, scary-ass nigga. I got this,” Boomer said as he wiped his nose and felt the rush of the grade-A cocaine working. Boomer kept thinking about the smug look on Macy’s face, and it only enraged him more. “That nigga thinks he’s untouchable. I will show him, though. Trust that!” Boomer said as he tried to think of a way to get Macy back.
    Boomer and Fruit had been smoking weed and sniffing cocaine most of the day, and he had never been as high as he was at that moment. He was past high; he was on another level.
    â€œWhat you going to do?” Fruit asked, halfway instigating the situation.
    â€œI don’t know, but I’m going to do something. That nigga think he better than me. You know he never let me call him Daddy. He always told me to address him as Macy. Do you know what that does to a little boy’s mind? Every kid around me got to call their father Dad, but no, not me. I hate him!” Boomer said, getting more upset with each word that left his mouth.
    â€œI can’t